Like I Love You: A Zayn Malik Romance

Trinity Ross has always been a fan of One Direction. Not a superfan, but a fan. And she gets the chance to meet them--on accident. Bumping into Zayn Malik on her journey to fame has been the best thing that's ever happened to her. But complications due to fame have risen. Will they stick it out? Or will everything come crumbling down?

9. Impatiently Waiting

My phone buzzed one short buzz. A text.

Checking my phone, I shoved about half of my freshly-made ham sandwich in my mouth, loving the taste of honey wheat bread, brown sugar ham, mayo, and iceberg lettuce. Pretty plain, but just the way I like it.

I checked the time; eight o'clock was freaking five hours away. I didn't realize how lonely I could get without the boys, especially Zayn and Niall. I could go a few hours without Louis, I thought with a smirk.

"Trinity!" my mom called from downstairs, instantly putting me in a bad mood; apparently, just one day of relaxation was too much to ask.

"What?!" I yelled back.

"We're going out to lunch, are you coming?"

I sighed. "Mother, I do have a car, I'm pretty sure I'm capable of driving myself."

"Soo..."

"No!"

"Okay, see you soon! If you need us, we'll be at Olive Garden, then probably the mall."

"Bye, Mom."

"Bye, love you."

"Love you, too."

As soon as the door slammed, I let out a huge gust of air and lay down on my back after sitting cross-legged for so long and put my phone up in front of my face.

What kind of human being goes out for lunch at three in the afternoon? I thought disdainfully.

Today was kind of a bad day. Everything was pissing me off, even my bed, which had decided to be very uncomfortable for me. And to top it off, I was One Direction-free. Not good.

I realized that I needed them. They were just so lively, energetic, it was addicting. Their being with me was like some sort of magic. Magic that made me want to hang out with them even more every second.

And Zayn. I've only just become his girlfriend--it was still strange to me to even think the words--and yet, without him, I felt empty, hollow. I fell deep this time. And there was no getting out.

It was kind of scary how much I liked him. Even though he was constantly flirting and even though I was his girlfriend, how could I be sure he felt the same way?

I guess only time will tell.

Sighing, I sat up and pulled my laptop onto my lap. It was still a little cold in my room, so I had my blanket around my legs.

I pulled up Facebook in one tab on Chrome, Twitter in another, and Grooveshark in the third. I pressed Play and Taylor Swift's Speak Now came on. Perfect, I thought. I loved this song.

"I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white-veil occasion. . . ." I sang along as I went back to Twitter. The Connections button was blue.

I clicked on it and was very surprised to see my significant increase in followers. Overnight, I had gained almost one and a half million followers. My jaw dropped.

Even though I was team follow-back, there was no way I could follow all of them back.

I checked my mentions and interactions. There were like a bazillion tweets with my name mentioned.

I wasn't really paying attention at first, so I went to Home and scrolled through my timeline. Soon getting bored, I decided to look up the boys and tweet them.

What I did not expect was to see that all five of them had followed me.

Instead of tweeting them, I switched tabs to Facebook. I hadn't been on since yesterday and I felt bad for some reason. I felt as though I owed the people of Facebook my virtual presence.

You're stupid, a voice in my head told me.

I sighed. Yep, that's me. Stupid and dumb.

Deciding Facebook was boring and not worth my time, I closed it and went back to Twitter.

"It seems that I was uninvited by your lovely bride-to-be," I sang along. "She floats down the aisle like a pageant queen, but I know you wish it was me. You wish it was me, don't you?"

I want a guitar, I thought randomly. But I don't know how to play. . . . Guess I'll get a beginner's guitar and a book and see how it goes from there.

I wondered how much money I had . . . I got up and checked my wallet and was shocked at the sight in front of me.

Okay, I know I did not have this much money twenty-four hours ago, I thought to myself as I pulled out the huge wad of money from my pink wallet. I counted for a quick fifteen seconds and the result was unbelievable.

How the hell did I get two thousand Euros? My wallet was fairly full yesterday when I tried to buy Wendy's and Liam slammed down his credit card before I could even get the money out. I had an estimated two hundred Euros last time I checked. It seemed almost impossible to gain that much money in such a short time.

I wondered who could have done this. I guess I'd just have to ask later. I knew my family couldn't have done it, so it must have been one of the boys. I could bet my soul it was Zayn.

Well, I thought as I walked over to the door, grabbing my purse and pushing my phone into my back pocket. Don't want to let all this money go to waste, now, do we?

I walked out of the house and down the driveway to my Altima--which Zayn had cringed at, saying that I had to get a new car or else he'd die. I rolled my eyes, but smiled.

"And why is that?" I had asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because," he'd whined. "It's killing me to see such a pretty girl in such a . . ."

I'd crossed my arms. "Go on."

He'd gestured helplessly to my car. "Such an--average car."

I laughed. "Average?"

"Yeah. Extraordinary beauty means extraordinary everything."

I sobered up and uncrossed my arms. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He automatically returned the hug before I looked up and pressed my lips to his.

"Thank you," I murmured against his lips.

He smiled, our mouths still brushing against each other's. "It's nothing," he whispered before kissing me properly.

The kiss was gentle, sweet. And it lasted for about ten seconds before we both pulled away. I gazed into his eyes through my sunglasses and beamed.

"Let's go," I said, letting go of him and getting in the driver's side.

Thinking back to that day made me bite my lip. I was wearing my signature outfit--cami, cardigan, skinny jeans, my hair in a messy bun, and the necklace Zayn had gotten me on the day he told me he loved me. Today, I decided to pair my outfit with some big sunglasses and black ankle boots. The white cardigan was short-sleeved, the cami black, and my skinny jeans were dark blue. My gold watch and matching bracelet on my right wrist gleamed in the sunlight, and the rings on my left ring finger and right middle shone brightly against the beaming sun. I stared at them as I took my phone out and walked down to my car.

I had one new text message.

Harry: TRINITY I MISS YOU :'(

I laughed. He was too cute.

Me: Awh, Hazza, I miss you to :3

Harry: YAAAAYYYYYY:DDDDDD

Me: And tell the others I miss them, too?(:

Harry: They miss you too. And a certain Bradford Bad Boy misses you "more than anyone else";)

I stopped at a red light. Damn traffic, I thought as I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel. While I waited, I turned on the radio. As soon as it came on, I grinned and turned it up as Katy Perry's Wide Awake played.

"Yeah, I was in the dark. I was falling hard with an open heart. . . ." I sang along happily, tapping my hands to the beat on the steering wheel.

Even when the song was finished, I was still sitting in the same spot. Then, almost as if the lights could hear my thoughts, the light turned green. I wasted no time getting away; however, the tires squeaked.

"Oops," I said to myself. "Sorry, people."

Talking to myself. I've hit an all-time low.

All Time Low. Sigh. . . .

The music store, Brilliance--what a name--was on the other side of town. I got out of my car and walked inside. Instantly, the air-conditioned interior hit me like a wrecking ball. I loved it.

"Hi," said a boy behind the counter at the front of the store. I looked at him, taking in his appearance--tousled dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a pearly white smile. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and, from what I could see, black jeans. "How can I help you?"

I looked around the place, thinking about what to ask. The multiple shelves of CDs and music books filled about half the store, and the walls surrounding them supported various guitars, keyboards, and smaller instruments. The other half had old records and magazines. Ahead of me, behind the counter, was a door.

"Um . . . if you don't . . . you know . . . how long have you . . . been together?"

"Three months," I said. I bit my lip.

"Oh. Cool. Well, see you around," he said, forcing a smile and giving me a small wave before turning away.

"Later," I said hurriedly as I rushed out the door. As soon as I got in my car, I set the guitar case on the passenger seat and began backing out. I spared a glance at Drake and was shocked to see him glaring at me. He quickly turned away and disappeared behind the door behind him. Confused, I focused on the road in front of me, searching for a Wendy's. Why was he looking at me like that?

I shrugged it off as I pulled up to the drive-thru speakers. It had begun raining while I was in the store. How I didn't notice till now, I had no idea.

"Hi, welcome to Wendy's. What can I get for you?"

"Can I get a Baconator combo meal and a large Frosty?"

"Okay, and what size Baconator?"

"Uh . . . the biggest you've got, I guess." I was pretty hungry.

"Alright. What kind of drink would you like?"

"Diet Coke, please."

There was a pause. "Alright, I have one large Baconator combo, large Frosty, and a Diet Coke, is that right?"

"Yep."

"Okay. We're having a special, do you want extra fries?"

"Uh, yeah, okay."

"What size?"

"Large." Obviously. No normal person would order this much.

"Any sauce?"

"No, thanks."

There was another pause, and some shuffling. "Alright, your total is $23.60, please pay at the second window. Have a nice day."

"Thanks."

I inched forward and stopped behind an SUV. I took out my phone to check the time; 3:54.

No messages. Sigh.

Then I remembered: the boys were in a radio interview. Maybe I could listen while I waited . . .

But I didn't know which one. Dammit.

Oh well. I could just skim the stations till I heard them.

I turned the radio on and slowly changed stations, listening intently.

". . . traffic has slowed . . . blocking the airway . . . brand new taco sauce . . . because in a million years, you would never . . ."

"Come on," I murmured to myself, still turning the dial.

". . . and with this week's episode . . . didn't expect the problem to spread . . . because I said it on a livestream . . ."

That voice sounded familiar. I listened further.

"Well, it was your fault. You didn't have to tell everyone." That sounded like Harry. . . .

"Well!" the other voice--Louis?--exclaimed. Then I heard laughter, and I knew it was my boys. Smiling, I sat back as I turned up the volume.

"Okay, I think we all understand that Louis is sick of receiving carrots in the mail," a different voice said. Must be the interviewer.

"So sick," Louis said.

Finally, the SUV in front of me pulled out. I drove up to the window and handed the girl the money. She closed the window and turned to the side. Probably putting the money in the cash register. I waited for a few seconds before she opened the window and handed me my Frosty.

"Um, could I have a spoon?" I asked after I put the Frosty in the cupholder and set the straw on the seat beside the guitar. Liam would hate me.

"Sure," she said, handing me one.

"Thanks," I murmured, but she didn't hear. She had already closed the window.

I sighed and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, listening to the boys' laughter on the radio.

"So," the interviewer said. "This is the part you've all been waiting for, audience. The relationship statuses."

I smiled. They must be tired of answering this question.

"Let's start with Niall. Niall, are you taken?"

"Nope," Niall said. "Still a single pringle."

"Aw, well I'm sure your princess is out there somewhere."

"I'm hoping." I could hear the grin on his face.

"What about you, Zayn? Single or no?"

"No," he said confidently.

"Oh, really? Nah, I'm kidding, everyone knows who you're dating."

"Yep," Zayn said, sounding happy. "Trinity Ross."

"She's a good girl."

"She's the best."

My heart just melted. I love him so much, I thought.

"Here you go," the girl said, handing me my--big--bag of food.

"Thank you," I said. I set the bag inbetween my legs and took out a fry. Then I closed the window and pulled out of the drive-thru, stopping at the curb for traffic.

"And you, Harry?" the interviewer asked.

"Single, still," Harry responded.

"Waiting for that special one, aye?"

"Yeah. I know she's coming."

"Okay, and you, Liam? Waiting or dating?"

"Dating," Liam said proudly.

"Yes, the gorgeous Danielle Peazer. We're all familiar."

Liam didn't say anything, but I knew he was grinning.

"And, last but not least, Louis. Taken?"

"Definitely."

"Yup, and by none other than Eleanor Calder, am I right?"

"Right you are." Aw, he sounded so happy.

"Great couple, you are. Anyway, that's all the time we have today, folks. Thank you for choosing 102.3. This is James Walter--"

"And we're One Direction--"

"Have a good day, everyone."

"Bye!" the boys shouted. I giggled, eating another fry.

When I arrived home, I went straight up to my room and closed the door. I set the guitar down on the bed; it could wait. There was food.

Knowing the burger was huge, I kept it halfway in the wrapper as I ate it. As I took my first bite, I logged on to Twitter on my laptop and made a tweet.

Calling each other babe was an insider. I absolutely hated the word, but Zayn thought it would be funny to call me it anyway, so I started calling him that, too. But to be honest, it sounded so cute coming from his mouth. Even if it was disgusting.

I took another big bite out of my burger and put a fry in there as well. Gotta eat what you got, I thought. There are people who don't get any food at all.

I checked the time and sighed. It was only 4:12.

Finishing my burger, I moved on to the Frosty. It was huge, so it took me forever, but I finally ate it all. I wasn't complaining, though. I wished I had more.

That's what she said, my brain said smugly. I couldn't help but laugh.

I walked over to my closet and opened the doors. I switched on the light and walked in, running my hands along the many shirts that were on the left. My closet was very organized; shirts and jackets on the left, pants on the far wall, and dresses on the right. On the shelves above were things like shorts and blouses. In the drawers below were undergarments, pajamas, dressing gowns, stuff like that. All my jewelry was on top of the dressers and all my shoes were hanging from both doors. My closet was very clean.

I started at the back of the closet, skimming through the many choices of silk, satin, and everything expensive. I eventually--after an hour of choosing and rejecting--decided on a tight-ish red dress with a heart-shaped neckline and a band just below the bust. It came mid-thigh, and I rummaged through my drawers for something to put under it. I hated wearing slips; they were extremely uncomfortable and I didn't know why. So instead, I chose thin, tight, and extremely short leggings so they wouldn't show under the dress. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the shower.

I washed twice after shaving--my legs and pits were bare, but just in case--and stepped out of the shower. I pulled on my clothes and ran a comb through my hair, starting from the bottom and working my way up. Even though there were no tangles, it felt nice.

Sitting at my vanity, I mulled over makeup. Natural? Flirty? I decided to make it look natural, so I got up and washed my face with Neutrogena. My skin looked perfect, so I went back into my room and sat back down. I applied a ring of black eyeliner and coated my eyes in mascara. Then I put on a little bit of pink lipstick and coated it in strawberry parfait-flavored lip gloss. I went back to my closet and put in dangling diamond earrings and a couple matching bracelets, some diamond, some gold. I walked over to the door and thought for a minute before grabbing some gold gladiator sandals; they were one of my favorites.

Still over an hour left. Sigh.

Now, hair, I thought as I stood in front of my full-body mirror. Should I leave it down? Since the dress was strapless, I voted yes and adjusted my side part, then pulled some of my hair over my shoulders. I plugged in the blow dryer and got to work.

Once my hair was straight, I checked the clock on the wall.

Damn, I thought. Only 7:10? Good thing I started as early as I did.

I pulled a brush through my hair, getting out the kinks the blowdryer created. Then, to make sure it didn't frizz, I put some strawberry-scented cream in, making sure I didn't miss any hair.

Thirty-five minutes to go.

I double-checked my appearance in the full-body mirror; I was missing something. Pondering over what else there was to do, I analyzed the way my body looked in the dress. It hugged my stomach perfectly and made my butt look great. As I turned, watching my hair flow with the motion, it suddenly hit me: cardigan.

I walked back to my closet and thought about what color cardigan to wear. Deciding on white, I grabbed one and shrugged it on as I walked out into my room.

Absentmindly, my eyes darted to the clock. Half an hour left.

Hmm, I thought. What to do for half an hour?

Twitcam?

Sure, why not.

I grabbed my laptop and sat at my vanity. I logged on to Twitter and made a tweet.

Hey guys, gonna do a twitcam cuz im bored-.- come watch!(:

Lame, I thought as I shook my head.

"Hey!" I said with a smile as I waved at the camera. My eyes flashed to the views before they widened in exitement. Already, I had 900,000 views.

"Wow, almost a million views already? Aw, I love you guys," I said. "So. I'm bored. I'm waiting for Zayn to come pick me up for our date because I finished getting ready early. So what should we do?"

I took a few moments to read the responses. People were suggesting things like prank the boys, sing for them, do a dance, anything and everything.

"Ooh," I said, leaning closer to the screen. "DirectBelief says we should do a Q&A. Sure, why not? Ask away."

I scanned the questions, deciding which one to answer first. One caught my eye.

"How did you and Zayn meet?" I read. "Well, it was at Wonders, the record place, and I bumped into him and . . . a friend. Then, like, a couple days later, I was at Olive Garden with my manager and Zayn came with the boys and introduced me. He stole me from my manager," I added with a pout. "But anyway, yeah, that's how we met."

I spent the rest of the time answering silly questions and laughing at the stupid, funny things people were saying. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I turned my head up to see Zayn standing behind me. I grinned.

"Hey," I said.

He leaned in to kiss me. "You ready?" he asked as we pulled away and I turned back to the computer.

"Yeah," I said. "Gotta go, everyone. Sorry. But I promise to do another tomorrow."

"Twitcam?" Zayn asked, leaning in closer to the computer. "Hey, everybody," he greeted with a smile. The comments blew up.

Zayn raised an eyebrow as he read something. "Trayn?"

"Isn't that name sorta taken?" I joked.

He grinned at me. "That's different," he said before pecking me again. "Let's go," he said, straightening up and waiting for me.

"Okay," I said reluctantly. "Bye, everyone," I said sadly, blowing them a kiss. I exited Twitter and shut my laptop.

Zayn chuckled as I pushed my chair back. He held out a hand and helped me up.

Almost immediately, he pulled me into a tight hug. He pressed his lips to the top of my head as I breathed in his scent.

We stayed like that for a couple minutes, but I didn't mind.

He pulled back slightly. "You look amazing," he breathed, his forehead leaning on mine.

I smiled. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."

He chuckled huskily. So hot.

"Ready?" he asked again.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Then come on," he said, pulling away and taking my hand. He led me downstairs, where the rest of my family were. Once they saw me, their jaws dropped.

"Oh, sweetheart," my mother gasped. "Honey, you look . . ."

Nobody else said anything; Zayn pulled me into his side with a grin.

"Wow," Peyton said with her arms crossed. "You're actually pretty." She smirked.

I frowned.

"I'm kidding," she said, shaking her head, still with that annoying smirk. "You're always pretty. Just tonight, you're extra."

I smiled. "Thanks, Peyton."

She smiled back before taking out her phone and walking to the kitchen.

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